


A Mythical Match

by Kalira



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alpha Hatake Kakashi, Alpha Umino Iruka, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Friendship, KakaIru Mini Bang 2020, M/M, Omega Verse, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:21:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24547567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalira/pseuds/Kalira
Summary: On an ordinary day in Iruka's busy life his attention is caught by a most extraordinary, delicious temptation of a scent. Heart fluttering and hopes lit, how could he do anything but follow where it leads?
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka
Comments: 21
Kudos: 238
Collections: KakaIru Mini Bang 2020





	A Mythical Match

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [KakaIru Minibang](https://kakairu-mini-bang.tumblr.com/post/190759312403/kakairu-mini-bang-2020)! The themes were 'Soulmates' and 'Urban Legends', and this one fills both of them~ (Second of five stories I have for the minibang.)

“You sure you don’t want to take the day?”

Iruka shrugged off the offered concern. “I’ll be fine, and you need the help in the Archives if we’re going to get the backlog squared away.” he reminded. Tsunade had demanded a complete overhaul of records, and while it had no doubt been necessary - there were . . . many hidden things that should not have been so; not the way they had been, in any case - the process had left chaos behind in the Archives.

Iruka didn’t need the dubious look from Fukurou, or the low reminder he offered _why_ he thought Iruka might want the day off. Iruka knew his own body quite well. He felt the faint itch under his skin, a stirring heat deeper inside; he _knew_ his rut was coming on, but it was hardly going to put him out of commission - the worst of it would be some mild discomfort while he was working, perhaps a little difficulty focusing which he was well used to working past.

“I’ll be fine.” he said again, shrugging. “I took my class at the Academy yesterday, and I still plan to pick up with them after the weekend as well.” he reminded, and laughed as Fukurou shuddered.

“I don’t see how you can do that.” Fukurou said, shaking his head.

Iruka rolled his eyes. “You don’t see how I can do that on _any_ day.” he pointed out wryly, and Fukurou did not contradict him. “I-” Iruka faltered, drawing a deep breath, eyes falling halfway closed as he immediately lost track of what he had been saying. He drew another deep breath, tilting his head back a little.

Iruka was vaguely aware of his name being called in relatively low but increasingly strident tones, but he was in the Tower, he was _safe_ here, so he allowed himself to tune it out and focus fully on that _scent_. He moved, following the call of it, feeling a thrill down his spine. That thrill spread into a tingle under his skin that almost blotted out the prickling itch of his oncoming rut.

“Do you smell that?” Iruka asked thickly, throat working as he breathed.

“Iruka, I don’t smell anything unusual.” Fukurou said as Iruka stepped in front of him.

Iruka hummed. “It smells . . . amazing. _Delicious._ ” he breathed. “You truly can’t smell it?” He followed it to its source, eyes tracking to a lean figure in jounin blues and- He held back a growl as Fukurou seized his arm, but didn’t look around at his friend - his eyes were locked on the source of that delicious scent, wanting to _go to him_.

“Whoa! Whoa, _Iruka_ ,” Fukurou hissed wordlessly, “get back here, that’s _Hatake Kakashi_.”

“I am _aware_ of who he is.” Iruka returned, a bit more clipped than he’d intended, dragging his shoulder away from Fukurou’s grip.

“ _He’s_ not an omega!” Fukurou warned. “It’s _Hatake Kakashi_. The _Copy Ninja_.”

Iruka felt his eye twitch. He _hated_ the weird prejudices around such things. “Not that it would _matter_ ,” he said firmly, “but I didn’t suggest that he _was_.”

“You said he smelled-” Fukurou’s voice dropped suddenly. “You said he smelled _amazing_. What was I supposed to-”

“That wasn’t what I meant.” Iruka said, drawing another deep breath. The _delicious_ scent - certainly nothing like the underlying sweetness of an omega nearing their heat, which was, no doubt, what Fukurou had assumed had caught Iruka’s attention - was fainter now, and Iruka sighed, trying not to pout. Kakashi had gone further away and out of sight while he was glaring at Fukurou - probably he’d continued in to the mission desk, where Iruka was _not_ working a shift today.

He made it a single step before Fukurou made a distressed sound and caught him by the arm again. Iruka stifled a whine and allowed himself to be pulled away. He shook himself, breathing deeply even as he followed Fukurou into the Archives, hoping for at least a _hint_ of the scent returning.

It was gone, as was Kakashi himself, and Iruka swallowed a soft sound of disappointment and turned his focus to his work. The Archives were as much of a mess as he remembered - more, really, and Iruka muttered irritated curses as he worked through records and the somewhat tedious job of reindexing the first filing cabinet. One of many.

Iruka was vaguely aware of the sounds of others working through other parts of the Archives, but he tuned it all out as he worked, focusing on the task under his hands. Iruka huffed. He hoped they were none of them fucking up his system, at least, and bared his teeth idly at the thought, irritation fizzing beneath his skin. He was aware it was aggravated by his oncoming rut, and mostly ignored it.

Iruka continued in his task, moving on through racks of scrolls a little more quickly. He startled as he turned the corner at the end of one aisle to see a lanky figure in jounin blues not far from the door. He hadn’t heard it open. He hadn’t heard _anything_.

Perhaps it shouldn’t be a surprise, considering the jounin in question.

Iruka fiddled with the end of a scroll, drawing a breath, watching. He was only catching the faintest traces of it yet, Kakashi must have just stepped in, but that _delicious_ scent had returned and while Iruka was perfectly _capable_ of focusing on his work. . . He sighed a little, silent, and watched as Kakashi spoke to one of the others, gesturing with deceptively lazy sweeps of his hand that ended with abruptly sharp emphasis. He was asking something about the new organisation system. He didn’t sound pleased.

Iruka snorted. He could take it up with Tsunade, if he was _that_ upset about it. Personally Iruka thought this would be a good change . . . even if it was beyond frustrating right now. Once everything was filed properly the Archives should be both more secure _and_ easier to access when needed.

Breathing deeply - the scent was thickening as Kakashi lingered in the Archives - Iruka shook his head a little and returned his attention to the scrolls he was reviewing. Focusing on the new system, he worked through them at a reasonably fast pace.

He let himself enjoy the rich, tempting scent - spice and warmth and ozone - while Kakashi was near, however, and when he heard Kakashi take his leave. . .

Pushing the scroll he held onto a shelf with little regard for where it fit - he would come back and check it after, put it where it actually belonged - Iruka stepped out into full view. “Kakashi-san?” he asked, and Kakashi turned towards him, loose-limbed and easy.

“Iruka-sensei.” Kakashi returned, closing the distance between them in a few long-legged strides, dipping his head slightly. Iruka’s breath caught. Oh. Oh that was _much_ more distracting up close. He breathed in deeply. “Do you need something?” Kakashi asked, his voice low; Iruka could hear the rumble in it from this close.

That was distracting too.

Iruka shivered, rolling his shoulders, losing himself in the temptation of it - but only for a moment.

“Iruka-sensei?” Kakashi repeated, head cocked, eye sharp as he met Iruka’s gaze.

Iruka smiled. “Only a question for you.” he said lightly, and Kakashi’s brow twitched.

“What would that be?” he asked, moving a fraction closer, tipping his head ever so slightly and lifting a hand. Iruka raised his chin, holding Kakashi’s gaze.

“Would you go on a date with me?” Iruka asked, and Kakashi startled, visible eye widening.

“I- _What?_ ” Kakashi asked, and Iruka might have been embarrassed, or backed off, but Kakashi’s voice wobbled slightly and while he’d jerked back with that startle . . . it was only barely. His hand was still stretched out between them, not quite reaching Iruka.

And that _scent_ . . . it hadn’t soured, either.

Kakashi might have been startled, but his shock wasn’t because he didn’t _want_.

“Well you _do_ smell _delicious_.” Iruka said archly, winking at him.

Kakashi’s eye narrowed, lips curving beneath his tight mask. “Is that so.” he said, not a question, and Iruka had wondered already if Kakashi hadn’t heard Iruka and Fukurou this morning; now he was sure of it.

“ _Mm_ ,” Iruka said, and gave a rough little purring growl, “ _so_ amazing.”

Kakashi’s eye lit with curiosity and interest. “Well then.” he said, glancing Iruka over. “Dinner tonight?”

Iruka grinned. “I would love to.” he said, a thrill lighting in his chest.

“When will you finish up here?” Kakashi asked, tilting his head - the tendons in his throat flexed and stood out under dark fabric - and sweeping a look over the Archives.

“Just come up when you’re ready.” Iruka said dryly. Kakashi gave him a mischievous look, and Iruka laughed. “I’ll be here.” And he could get more work done until Kakashi _actually_ turned up, which he was not willing to lay better than even odds would be on time.

Kakashi laughed. “I’ll look forward to it.” he said, looking Iruka over once more, slow this time. “See you tonight, Iruka-sensei. . .”

“See you tonight.” Iruka returned, a little breathless, that wonderful scent thick in his nose even as Kakashi walked away.

Iruka took a step back and watched as Kakashi sauntered out the doors, taking a few moments before centring himself to focus on his work again, returning to where he’d left off.

“ _Iruka!_ ”

“What?” Iruka asked absently, retrieving the scroll he’d pushed into the wrong place and checking it, returning it to the right one instead. He started on the next row. The heat under his skin was a little harder to ignore now, and Iruka licked his lips, toes curling as he focused on pushing it back down. His rut was coming on a little faster now than he’d noted in the past days, than was normal.

He was fairly certain he knew why, but that thought only made him giddier. He bit his lip, barely quelling a smile.

It was difficult to focus on his work, but Iruka was practised at this and in any case, new organisation or not, the Archives were very familiar to him, as was working in them. He managed all right until lunch, when he was only too glad to take a break . . . even if it wasn’t to chase down that enticing scent which had faded completely hours ago - all too quickly for Iruka, who had fought not to whine as it thinned.

He would see Kakashi again tonight, though, Iruka thought, and grinned a little giddily as they made their way to a favourite restaurant, along with a few friends taking their lunch break from work at the mission desk.

“I hear _you_ have a _date_ , Iruka-kun. . .” Onichi said, leaning in close, after their server had headed off with their orders.

Iruka shoved him off a little, laughing. “Maybe I do.” he admitted, and then hummed, vaguely aware his expression was probably going dreamy. “That _scent_. . . I found-” He broke off, ducking his head, smiling.

“As long as you’re sure it isn’t-”

“I found my best match.” Iruka said softly, then snagged his glass. It hadn’t taken long - especially once removed from the distracting influence of Kakashi’s actual scent - for him to realise what it _must_ be. Nothing had _ever_ smelled so good, so _right_ , drawn him so much; not his home safe with his parents when he was young, not his own rut-thickened scent in the depths of pleasure, not the most tempting omega he’d ever come across at the height of their heat, not _anything_. It _had_ to be that - that Kakashi was his match, his _best_ match.

“That isn’t a _thing_.” Fukurou said, and Iruka blinked, twisting to look at him. “They’re barely even mentioned in _hearsay_ and _then_ it’s only. . . Look, Iruka, he’s _not_ your match. He can’t be. It’s barely even a _myth_.”

“. . .Fukkun, of _course_ it’s real.” Onichi said, voice low and tone a bit off.

Iruka, staring dubiously at Fukurou, couldn’t blame him. Matches were a documented phenomenon - everyone knew of them, and most people hoped to find theirs. Though Iruka had never found it particularly enticing himself, the most common fantasy - for alphas and omegas alike - centred around finding one’s match. Going into rut or heat, just edging into being _able_ to scent one’s best match, body keyed up, finding them just at the cusp of their own - because certainly best matches, _soulmates_ , would have synched cycles even if they had never met - spending the time together, bonding fast. . .

The supposedly archetypal fantasy wasn’t something Iruka would want and he found it vaguely unsettling, but to find his _match_. . .

That Iruka was giddy over, and perfectly willing to admit it.

“He has a date with Hatake Kakashi.” Fukurou said, and Iruka felt himself grinning again, not quite able to stifle it.

“Hatake?” Onichi repeated, eyes widening, and Iruka snorted.

“Yes.” Iruka toyed with his glass, glancing out the window.

“ _Hatake_ is not an omega!” Fukurou said, just _barely_ low enough not to draw attention from other tables.

Iruka scowled. “And I told you this morning, I made no claims that I thought he _was_.” he snapped in response.

“Best matches are _alpha and omega pairs_ , Iruka,” Fukurou countered sharply, shaking his head, “you know that. _Everyone_ knows that. Even in _stories_ any homoaligned best matches proved to be false, trickery, confusion, you know th-”

“I _know_ what I _scented_.” Iruka said just as sharply, glaring.

“Ah- Hatake is your match, Iruka?” Onichi questioned softly.

Iruka huffed, turning back to him. “Yes. I-” His lips twitched towards a smile. “I scented him this morning. . . Fuck, Onichi, it’s- It was like nothing ever. . .” He shook his head. “I guess he’s never been around before when I,” he paused, gesturing, “or me, him.”

Onichi nodded, leaning over the table a little. “That’s exciting! And you have a date with him tonight?”

“Best matches are not-”

“To think that mates are drawn to one another based on _breeding potential_ is outdated prejudice,” Iruka said dryly, “to think that the best match to one’s heart and soul is chosen predicated on the same is a _hell of an opinion_ , Fukkun.”

Fukurou stiffened, expression shading with embarrassment and irritation. “I am only trying-”

“Let me enjoy it, all right? All I expect is . . . a date.” Iruka said, swirling his glass idly in one hand. “A date with an attractive _alpha_ ,” he said pointedly, “who smells wonderful.”

“But you said. . .”

Iruka might not want to say it - certainly not after the fuss that Fukurou had made - but he _did_ hope for more, of course he did. He’d scented what _could only be_ his _match_ \- of _course_ he hoped it would be more than a date, hoped it would be. . .

Hoped that it would be his _mate_ found in his match. One day.

Iruka didn’t enjoy the fantasy of a quick bonding and quicker bedding of one’s best match when they were found, and he certainly didn’t hope for that with Kakashi, but he _did_ hope they. . . Suited. That the date went well, and that there were more, and. . .

Iruka ducked his head. Well. Kakashi _was_ a very attractive alpha, and he smelled amazing - to Iruka, particularly - and Iruka was verging on his rut.

Iruka might not wish for it _now_ , but he couldn’t help but entertain thoughts of bedding Kakashi, along with bonding him. One day. Perhaps.

Iruka tuned out his friends as he finished his lunch, idly thinking about his date tonight and trying _not_ to think about too much more. It was true that matches between alphas - or between omegas - were not common, and Iruka had heard before the belief that they were nothing more than a myth. Iruka knew what he had scented, though, knew it _had_ to be his match - and Iruka knew that matches, for all the study put into them, were anything but predictable and only loosely understood as it was.

Fukurou likely still thought Iruka was deluded by the time they were heading back to the Tower to return to work, but he had at least dropped the topic and was no longer telling him so to his face. They discussed other things instead, and most of Iruka’s mind was off contemplating his date tonight, even as he got back to work on restoring order to the Archives. A smile lingered on his lips.

* * *

Pausing with his fingers still on the scroll he’d been putting away, Iruka drew a deeper breath, eyes wide. The most delicious scent in the world teased just at the edge of his senses, and he grinned a little sloppily, secure in the knowledge he was alone in the Archives. Or he had been.

He took a moment to properly finish filing the scrolls he’d brought in from the mission desk, then mastered his expression to a slightly more reasonable level before hurrying out and back towards the mission desk. Kakashi was just inside the doors, somehow giving the impression of lounging while perfectly upright.

“ _Kakashi._ ” Iruka breathed, then caught another breath, scenting his mate. It _was_ the most delicious scent in the world - not only his mate, his _match_ , the other half of his soul, but Kakashi was going into rut. More than, if his scent was this rich; it had started coming a few days ago if Iruka had to guess. Early, it shouldn’t have come for another two weeks, until he’d been home from his last mission for a while, but then, Kakashi’s cycle had never been the most steady.

“Iruka- _sensei_.” Kakashi replied, almost a drawl, heavy-lidded eye bright as he met Iruka’s gaze.

“Welcome home.” Iruka dipped his head, then glanced at the mission desk. His shift was over in another two hours, but it had been quiet. . . “Come, let me get your return logged in for you.”

Kakashi hummed, smiling, and followed Iruka towards the desk. Onichi looked at Iruka, then at Kakashi behind him, and raised his eyebrows. Iruka leaned down. “Will you be all right if I take off early?” he asked, voice low.

Onichi smothered a laugh, but nodded. “Sure. Go home with your mate, Iruka-kun- Oh!” His eyes widened and he took another shallow breath, gaze darting to Kakashi. “ _Oh._ Yes, go, for sure.” he assured Iruka, making a little shooing gesture.

Iruka frowned a little, narrowing his eyes, and Onichi snorted, shaking his head. Iruka grinned and returned to his seat, but didn’t sit down. “Welcome back, Kakashi.” he said again, and Kakashi giggled softly, pulling a scroll from his pouch and flipping it lightly over to Iruka. He caught it and opened it enough to check it, then bent and noted it in his record for the day. “Thank you for your hard work.”

“Thank _you_.” Kakashi said, low and easy, tucking his hands in his pockets.

Iruka tucked the scroll in Onichi’s stack to deal with, signed off at the bottom of his record for the day, and picked it up to file on his way out. “Shall we go home?” he asked, and Kakashi’s eye lit with surprised pleasure.

He tilted his head as Iruka moved back around the desk, a silent question, and Iruka trailed his fingers over his mate’s arm, leading him out of the room. “I can take off early.” he said, shrugging one shoulder. “I want to be with you . . . and it’s been quiet for a while. They can handle the rest of the evening without me.”

Kakashi grinned at him happily, and Iruka clasped his forearm, then ducked in to file his record. A few minutes later they were walking through the village together, towards their home, and Iruka was laughing as he tried - not very hard - to evade Kakashi’s teasing, stroking, needy hands.

Needy the way Kakashi was always needy with him, for attention, affection, affirmation. Needy with something far more than the eagerness of his rut, and something Iruka was all too willing to indulge his mate in - no matter where they were.

Iruka slid a hand over Kakashi’s hip and up under the edge of his flak vest, drawing him into a sheltered alcove and nuzzling him affectionately, kissing along his jaw up to his cheek and then his lips without disturbing his mask. Kakashi panted a little, pressing against Iruka, strong hands catching hold of him at the hips.

Kakashi wanted, _needed_ , more than just satisfaction for his rut . . . but it _was_ still influencing him. Iruka shivered. It wouldn’t take long before _his_ was, as well; it had barely been a quarter of an hour but he could already feel the shivery beginnings deep within himself, his body matching itself to his mate’s, prepared to fall with him and match their cycles now, with the scent of his rut rich in Iruka’s nose.

“Let’s get home.” Iruka said, his voice a little rough, his lips against Kakashi’s ear.

Kakashi shivered, then growled, and Iruka nipped his ear, pressing cosily against him, angling his hips against Kakashi’s just enough for the contact to be a tease. Kakashi’s growl dropped lower, and his hands tightened on Iruka, making him laugh - then gasp, as Kakashi’s teeth scraped along his jaw, barely shielded by the tough material of his mask.

“Kakashi. . .” Iruka said softly, his neck _throbbing_ just where he bore the years-old scar of Kakashi’s impressive fangs.

Kakashi nuzzled him, sliding closer to his ear. “Iruka. My Iruka, mate. . .” he rumbled, his grip easing and his hands smoothing over Iruka’s sides and hips.

Iruka stroked his cheek, thumb brushing by his eye, smiling and feeling his heart _aching_ with adoration. “My Kakashi.” he said in return, fingers brushing through Kakashi’s hair, then sliding down to cup his sharp jaw.

“Home.” Kakashi said, asked, closing his eye and leaning into Iruka’s hand.

“Home.” Iruka agreed, and gently tugged him on again, keeping their fingers twined and their bodies close this time as they moved, a little quicker than before.


End file.
